Dislocation
by Kaeari
Summary: The captain of the guard and castellan of Lord Spencer's castle, Albert finds his reading interrupted by a soldier's situation. AU.


Done for Mrsalbertwesker on Tumblr. As for an idea of settings, I imagine it's set somewhere between the 1700's and the 1800's. But I could be wrong; I'm not a history buff. Either way, this is AU. XD

****Disclaimer:** **I own nothing. Not a damn thing. I do this for fun, not profit. All creative rights to the characters and storyline belong to their original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

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><p>The castle was quiet, though for Albert, it was more of a relaxing quiet than an unnerving one. He preferred the silence of absence; it meant that no one was around to bother him with foolish questions or unnecessary conversation. It was certainly better than the keep he was usually stationed at, rowdy soldiers staying up well into the night, but Lord Spencer offered a reprieve when he fell ill and required someone to look after the castle in his place.<p>

Needless to say, Albert had taken him up on the offer without a second thought.

There were few guards that were regularly stationed at the castle, but Albert corrected that by bringing some of his more skilled soldiers with him on the short journey between the castle and its keep. It would have been so much easier and more practical to have the keep build within the castle grounds, but Lord Spencer would have none of it, preferring to keep his castle relatively private.

The castle itself was by no means large, but it was substantial enough to have a decent library, which is where Albert chose to spend his time that day.

Perusing the old and more recent tomes, Albert picked out a rather well-read one, the spine crinkled and veined. It was one he'd read before, but not in quite some time. He settled into one of the armchairs lined up along the windows and began to read, relishing the silence that filled the castle. Not even the servants were bustling about. Only the rain outside kept him company.

Nearly halfway through the book, Albert looked up when he heard first the sharp sound of the door being knocked on, and then the creak of it being opened roughly. Hearing it bang against the wall, Albert put his book down and grabbed for the gun he kept in the side table. The one in his coat would have been more reliable, but Albert had left both objects in his room before coming to the library.

Albert strode down the hall as quietly and quickly as he could possibly manage and came to the foyer, a large, open space that never failed to make footsteps echo. He leaned over the balcony slightly, feeling his suspenders start to chafe his shoulders through the thin fabric of his shirt.

The door was open, letting in the rain and cold winds, but Albert's attention was focused on the lone soldier holding their left arm and limping unsteadily to the downstairs hallway. They tracked mud with every step.

Albert went down to meet them before they could reach the door.

"You're supposed to be out on patrol," he chastised, but the irritated tone in his voice was lost as he saw the way the soldier's fingers gripped their bicep, knuckles white from the pressure. Their clothing was wet and ruined, some parts shredded while others were stained with grime.

The soldier turned around, and Albert recognized them as Jillian, one of the few women who had been given the privilege to serve Lord Spencer as a soldier rather than a maid. She was also one of the few who he could actually stand, the young woman having proved herself very capable on a number of occasions.

Jillian's voice was quiet and stuttering when she spoke. "I apologize, sir, but I took a fall on the way back and..." Here, she paused to wince as her fingers came away. The knuckles were still white, but the tips of her fingers looked red and raw and dirty. "I think I may have dislocated my shoulder."

Frowning, Albert stepped closer to inspect the injury, but couldn't see much with the wet and dirt-covered clothing in the way.

"If it is, I'll fix it for you myself," he said. "The nurses aren't around at this time of day."

It wasn't late enough to be night, but the heavy clouds looming over the castle made it seem that way.

Jillian shook her head. "No, I couldn't ask that of you..."

Albert snorted. "You're not that dim, Jillian. You're one of my finest, and I expect you to act like it. Now, come." Wrapping his arm around her waist, Albert pulled her along to the guest rooms, closing the front door and ignoring the mud left behind in the foyer.

The room he'd chosen was cozy, but had really only chosen it for the fireplace built into one of the walls. As Jillian stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, Albert dug through the closet and pulled a long, sturdy towel out. He also started a small fire, fanning it until it was large enough to stay burning on its own.

"Can you undress yourself?"

"What?" Mortified, Jillian was about to protest when she remembered she couldn't move much of her arm without causing herself incredible pain. She shook her head. "No, sir. I can get my pants and boots, but my shirt..."

Albert hummed, instructing her to do just that while he went back to his room briefly. Jillian had just tugged off the second boot when he returned, a veritable flood of dirt and sludge creeping its way out and onto the wood flooring. She'd been walking in it for only a few hours, but the grit had poked and prodded her heels until they were blistered and sore.

Slipping out of her soaked pants, Jillian stood in her undergarments and ruined jacket, sitting down when she was sure she wasn't still dripping mud. Modesty would just have to wait until after Albert had somehow fixed her arm.

Albert came toward her with a knife and a small pair of shears, gesturing for her to move her arm.

"Tell me what happened," he said, using the knife to cut away some of the tangled bits of her coat.

Looking around the room idly, Jillian recalled the few events that had brought her to that moment. "My regular patrol went well enough, but the ground to the northwest is weak from the rain. When I passed by it again, it gave way, and I started falling." Pausing as Albert pulled on her clothing to make it easier to cut, Jillian ignored the throbbing in her arm and continued. "A tree broke my fall, but I hit one before it, and that's how I got injured. I came back after that."

"Nothing suspicious?"

"No, sir."

"Good."

Jillian felt Albert cut one more time with the shears and, a second later, her coat and shirt came away. Albert helped her peel the wet clothing away from her arm, sticking stubbornly to the wrappings she used to bind her chest.

A thought came to her then.

"Sir, may I ask a question?"

Albert nodded once, getting her to lay down flat on the bed.

"Why are you doing this?"

It wasn't normal for the captain and temporary castellan to care, much less help his soldiers. If someone complained, he would have none of it and make them do it anyway.

Albert exhaled quietly, folding up the towel into a smaller, thicker shape. "You're one of my best, Jillian, I told you earlier. A dislocated shoulder would be detrimental to your ability to serve, worse if the damage is permanent. I won't allow that to happen."

Expecting a shorter answer, Jillian's eyebrows raised, but she said nothing. She wasn't going to protest such treatment, rare as it was.

"I want you to bite down on this," Albert said, putting the towel up to her mouth. Jill bit down obediently, grimacing at the dry taste of cloth. "This will hurt."

Jillian took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and nodding. Albert put his hands on her, warm against her chilled skin. They felt nice.

"On the count of three. One-"

A loud, sickening pop accompanied the wave of pain and nausea that overcame her, colourful spots bleeding into her vision. The cloth in her mouth kept her from biting her own tongue or grinding her teeth, but it did nothing to dull the burning, stabbing pain. Albert's hands weren't so nice when they were the ones putting her shoulder back in place.

Ripping the towel from her mouth, Jillian gasped and clutched her arm as Albert pulled away, taking the towel and unfolding it.

"Sit up," he ordered, settling on the edge of the bed.

Jillian huffed before forcing herself upright, allowing Albert to take her arm gently and form a makeshift sling from the towel to cradle it. He was being gently, a far cry from the ruthlessness he exuded while on duty as captain of his troops. When he leaned closer and reached around her to tie the knot around her neck, a shiver ran up Jillian's spine; the rest of Albert was warm, not just his hands, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and sleep like that.

Albert made sure the sling was secure before he stood, gathering up the knife and shears. "You may stay here for the night. The others should return in a while, and they can take care of you tomorrow. I'll have a maid come in with fresh clothing in the morning."

Jillian smiled. "Thank you, sir. I promise I'll try not to be a hindrance."

"See that you do." With one last look back at the nearly bare woman on the bed, Albert left her to her own devices.

Still cold, Jillian wrapped the topmost blanket on the bed around her form and shuffled over to the fireplace, her feet throbbing in protest. She sat down carefully and stared at the flames, eyes burning from the heat and smoke.

For whatever reason, she didn't think it was as warm as Albert had been.


End file.
